


Hopelessly Devoted to a Memory

by Mamapotterhead2492



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21558214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamapotterhead2492/pseuds/Mamapotterhead2492
Summary: Harry's dealing with crippling regret.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Hopelessly Devoted to a Memory

-2 years ago, Hogwarts castle, Sixth Year- 

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" His words were icy to his former lover. 

"What? Harry no, of course it's not! It's my little sister, I'm trying to protect her!" 

"It's fine, it's fine. I understand that I was the only one with genuine feelings in this situation. What did you do? Repeat back all the information I told you to Malfoy so he could tell Voldemort and then you two could shag into the sunset?! I bet you both laughed hysterically in between choking on each other!" He stormed from the Astronomy Tower, daring the other man to follow him. 

Sure enough, he followed. 

"I would never betray you, I bloody love you, you wanker! You mean the absolute bloody world to me, you always have!" 

The raven haired wizard spun around to address the other with haughty derision. 

"Don't treat me like a fool." 

"Then stop acting like one!" 

"I'm not!" 

"I'm not putting up with this. Get ahold of me when you come to your senses." 

And with that, the finest piece of chocolate in the wizarding world had slipped through his fingers. 

~Present Day~ 

Exhaling a melancholy moan of regret, Harry climbed out of his twin sized bed and tousled his shaggy, black hair. He really needed to stop dreaming about that day. Blaise had walked away to save his family, something he would have done had he not been the sacrificial lamb of the entire Second Wizarding War. 

Each footstep since had been weighed down with regret because of how much he loved Blaise. Dressing himself, he got ready for another day of law enforcement. It was a sad life, barren of any romance or affection. Truth be told, he was a fool for having let Blaise go. He knew it, and he hated how devoted he was still. 

"Potter," he began looking at himself in the mirror as he fixed his tie, "you are a bloody moron. You should have held onto him tighter." 

With that final thought, he flooed to the Ministry. 

Today was the anniversary. Harry knew it, everyone knew it. You didn't just forget the day that the second darkest wizard in history was defeated. So many lives had been lost that day, so many friends had sacrificed themselves to the cause. Going to work on a small case for Hermione, who somehow had become his boss and head of the DMLE, he tried to keep from thinking about that day in sixth year.

The case was a simple one, domestic disturbance, the same couple he had been solving squabbles for for months now. When he arrived at the expansive manor, he could hear screamed curses echoing off the many trees and other foliage. Taking off at a run, he tried to stave off the attack. He finally entered, to find Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy tossing curses back and forth like an American football. Standing between them, mostly for Narcissa's safety at this point, because Lucius would hex him instead of his wife. 

Resolving that, the rest of his day flew by. Quitting time came, and he reluctantly floo'd out of the lobby. 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

When Hannah saw Harry walk into the Three Broomsticks, he looked rough. His hair was even more disheveled than usual, which for Harry Potter, was saying something. As he sat at the bar, she noticed a sallow appearance to his face, eyes sunken in, eyes bloodshot from crying, glasses cracked again. Then Hannah remembered. The anniversary, of course. 

"How ya doin, Harry?" She asked, pouring him a glass of firewhiskey. 

Harry didn't look up, he didn't acknowledge her question, he grabbed the glass and knocked the amber liquid back. As the whiskey stung his throat, he slapped the bar, still not meeting her eyes. 

"Rough day?" She tried again. 

Placidly placing the glass down on the cherry wood surface, he finally looked at her. 

"I broke up a domestic dispute at Malfoy Manor again today, and then was called to the Nott estate because Pansy Nott was trying to set fire to her ex husband with Fiendfyre. 

Hannah's head shot up at the mention of her former friend. 

"Why would she do that?!" She asked. 

"Apparently," he began, "he brought the former Mrs. Malfoy to Azailia's fifth birthday party as his date. And Pansy did NOT appreciate it. She was screaming that he was, and I quote 'a slag loving, scum sucking, worthless muggle loving man whore'." 

Hannah's eyes grew wide as she poured him another glass. 

"Merlin! Pansy's lost it!" 

Harry accepted it graciously, slamming it back again, slapping the bar against the sting of the alcohol. Belching and growling, he shook his head, confirming what he said was the truth. 

"Most. Definitely. She didn't want him when they were together, had a long running affair with one Marcus Flint and then Adrian Pucey. Hell, she's still WITH Pucey. But Theo moves on with Astoria and suddenly, Pansy's a homicidal maniac." 

"Well, the girl was never quite stable. I mean she and Blaise…. Oh, Harry… I…" she stopped herself at the mention of the other wizard. 

Holding up a hand, he silently dismissed her slip up. 

"Hannah, it's fine. I can talk about him." 

Shaking her head, Hannah knew differently. Harry came in here every time he was having a particularly terrible time. Whenever the nightmares plagued him of how he had just let Blaise go, and when the regret of that fact was at the forefront, he came here and drank his sorrows away. He would succumb to melancholic, heart wrenching sobs at the mere mention of the name. 

Four years later, he was still hurting so much. It shattered Hannah's heart to see her friend go through this. He had already experienced so much loss in his life, Blaise had just been the icing on the cake of all the things Voldemort had robbed Harry of. Each time he took something away, he found a way to taunt Harry mercilessly with it. 

"I was so devoted, Hannah, so devoted. I never strayed, even when we were in secret. I didn't date, at all. There was only him. My head is telling me to just move on, he's gone, he's not coming back… that he would want me to be happy…. But, I can't. My heart is screeching 'don't let go!' Hold on to the end. Hold onto the memories." 

Hannah shook her head and stared at the bowed head of the Man-Who-Lived-With-Crippling-Regret. She placed a hand on his, squeezing gently. 

"I know it's hard, Harry, to be so torn. You don't know what to do when your head and your heart are warring inside. You usually lean to one direction, but you can't fully commit to either decision. You want to move on, to find the same sort of happiness Blaise gave you, but you feel guilty, like you're insulting his memory to do that." 

Harry took another glass, lifting it to his lips, stopping, and nodding.

"You're right. I'm so hopelessly devoted to my first love that I can't decide what to do." 

"Maybe, seeing a therapist would help? I'm sure Hermione can help you find one." 

Harry sighed, shaking his head. 

"I don't think so." 

Hannah nodded, understanding his hesitation to open up to people. It wasn't an easy thing to do. 

"Maybe you could go visit the monument, and pay your respects?"

Harry nodded again, accepting another drink. 

"That's a brilliant idea! Thank you, Hannah." 

Without another word, the drunken Harry leapt off the barstool and staggered toward the door. As soon as he was gone, Hannah flew to her floo to make a call. 

Harry took off in the bright May sun, so opposite to the cold, dreary December in his soul, making his way to the monument that had been erected in honor of those lost on May 2, 1998, the Battle of Hogwarts. 

It sat vigil on a hill in between the courtyard of Hogwarts and Hagrid's hut-turned-classroom. It was a fist clenching a wand, made of pure white marble, with a bronze placard with the names of all of the victims of Voldemort and the Death Eaters at the bottom. 

Letting out a loud sob, he fell to his knees at the placard.

"I'm so sorry I failed you, Blaise. I'm so, so sorry I ever doubted your love. Please, forgive me. I can't live with the guilt. Its turned me into the most horrible person. I'm hateful, I'm rude, I'm…" 

"Nothing like the Harry I fell in love with," came a voice behind him. 

Whipping around, Harry looked up and gasped. His mouth dropped open and fresh tears sprung from his eyes. He stood up, still in disbelief. 

"BLAISE?!?!" 

Removing his sunglasses cooly, the dark-skinned man nodded. 

"Hello, my handsome Harry." 

A second later, the smile was wiped off his face by a fist. 

Shocked, he growled. 

"What the hell was that for?" He asked. 

"Leaving me," Harry answered. 

"I didn't have much of a choice, Harry. My mum is a very powerful woman, and she was in deep with the dead heads. She offered my sweet little twelve year old sister to one of those monsters! I had no choice but to protect her. And it's all thanks to the sodding Gryffindor I fell in love with. You turned me from zero to hero, you made me want to protect my little sister! I had to walk away and take her with me. She's sixteen now, and she lived to see it because of you…. well, you and Hannah. She goes time Ilvermorny, and is thriving. If she'd stayed here she would've been enslaved and made a child bride. I'm sorry it was so hard on you, I wanted to tell you, but Aberforth swore me to secrecy. He helped Blayre and I get to America with new names and gave us new lives. Hannah got us in contact with him. But I'm back now." 

"As if that changes things," Harry retorted, crossing his arms defensively. 

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me and yourself. You telling me to leave, was the best thing for me and my sister. Besides, I know you did it to protect me." Blaise beamed at Harry.

"That transparent am I?" Harry chuckled.

"Not transparent, I just know how you are. You knew Voldemort would use me against you." 

Harry nodded, letting Blaise know he was right. 

"So, what now?" Harry asked, unsure of how to move forward.

Blaise looked at the ground, as if gathering his thoughts, figuring out exactly how he wanted to express himself. 

"Well," he began, "I'd hoped, that when I came back…" his eyes met Harry's. 

"That I'd still be waiting?" 

Blaise's smile faded meekly, before he spoke again. 

"Well, yeah." 

Without another word, Harry leapt into the arms of the taller man, eager to feel the embrace again. Blaise returned his exuberance, pulling away only to kiss Harry. 

"I've missed you so much. America's not any fun all by yourself. I am so sorry I didn"'t come back sooner, I just…"

Harry shook his head. 

"You had to be sure. Why, now though?" He asked the question his mind had been mulling over since Blaise had appeared. 

"Hannah just sent word. My mum died four months ago." 

"That's brilliant! I, uhm, I mean…" Harry blushed as he realized the harshness in his words. 

"It is brilliant. Now Blayre can come back home and so can I. So, what are you doing Friday night?" Blaise asked as if he already knew the answer to the question. 

"Oh, you know, probably you," Harry replied playfully. 

"Good answer." 

The two wizards walked off hand in hand and Harry's December heart had a May rainbow peeking through the snow. 


End file.
